


Bonus

by KawafujiTakao



Category: bungou stray dogs
Genre: Crack, I AM SORRY, M/M, This is more or less
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-09-07 02:17:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8779234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KawafujiTakao/pseuds/KawafujiTakao
Summary: Was digging through my notes on my phone when I found this thing that I never finished from half a year ago. It is also too bad to finish. Found another one too, but unlike this one that one is actually decent and I'll post it sooner or laterI was like, "why?" When I read this.Then I got to the very last line and I am really concerned. What was I thinking when I wrote this?





	

The feeling of being present, but not being there must be all too familiar for this boy.

You can tell by the way he will participate, yet space out, distance flooding his eyes.

You can see fidgeting and wriggling in hands full of uncertainty. 

You can see hesitation in stating his own opinion.

One day I decide to approach him about it. His hands go to the creases disrupting the threads in his shirt, trying to flatten itself out as if to present himself.

"H-hi Dazai-san!" He smiles at me, as he does with everyone. How in the hell does someone who went through what he did act so cheery?

"Hm, Atsushi-kun. Would you do me a favor?" I ask him, but I know he is already going to say yes, he is just that kind of character. 

"What?"

Not a yes, but close enough.

"Are you comfortable around me?" I step forward. 

"Of course!" (not,) As I can see his hands go up in defense and thin calves inch backwards in fear.

"Good. Then you wouldn't mind doing a little something for me."

"No problem." His face is red. Cute.

"Well." I point my hand in the direction of the navy blue love seat furnishing the agency. "Take a seat."

He sits almost immediately, like a programed robot. He does it so fast he falls backwards and hits his head on the window sill behind him. His skeleton of a hand reaches for the bump steadily growing larger by the second. 

A wave of guilt shrouds his face when I sigh, and head for the fridge for an icepack. There are none. Great. Chicken nuggets it is. I feel bad that he is so attentive to everything, because he takes it much too seriously and blames himself.

"Here you are." 

"Is that for me?" His head tilts like a dog when a high pitch noise sounds.

He really is an ice block. "No." I jab a finger under his ribs. He gifts me with a hearty yowl. "It's for that flat stomach. I can see your organs imprinted through the skin."

He just glares up at me with a forced frown. 

"You are so helpless." I take a seat next to him, placing the frozen dinner where he hit his head. He isn't positioned correctly. Geez, if he can't do it himself the LEAST he could do is have proper posture. "Tilt your head left." His head goes to the right and I grab his chin and direct him the opposite way. "Your OTHER left."

My hand is still under his chin, reassuring me that he won't rest the other way.

"I'm sorry Dazai-san...." He looks down. Now THIS is the exact reason I have to hold him like a doctor inspecting the inside of a patient's throat. 

"Keep your head up, or I'll cut it off so it falls down. Maybe, if we're lucky it will just regenerate."

With as much sass as someone as small as he can muster, he tries to hit me with a comeback. "I don't think that would work for even me" 

Poor job, since he is basically throwing himself under the bus.

"Oh yeah...what did you want me to do for you again?"

Shit.

All I wanted was to talk to him, I HAD a lie, but he made me forget once he injured his stupid self. I come up with a quick joke. "This was a test, like when you first came here." To his own idiocy, he takes me seriously.

"To test what?"

I decide to go along with it. "To test your coordination skills. Judging by how you sat so hard you nearly cracked your skull, followed by not being able to know left from right, you have failed."

"Oh" He shut himself up for awhile, pulling the whole distance thing again. We just sat there, me holding chicken, most likely freezer burnt, to his head, and he holding (or trying to) his head up. 

"You're still failing."

I snap my fingers in his face

"Fail. Ing."

At this, a tear falls onto his pants. Like I was saying earlier, he takes everything seriously.

Now I'm not the sentimental type, let alone 'nice.' But when an Atsushi Nakajima starts crying in front of you, you don't just let him off.

I can only imagine how inadequate he has felt all his life. I probably just stirred up a ton of suppressed memories. 

Much to my attempt at keeping his head up, his head is still down. Screw these chicken nuggets. His head is probably fine now. I grab, and I mean GRAB his chin. I jolt it up, practically snapping his jaw off. That was more harsh than I originally planned, but I'll take it. "I was joking, Atsushi-kun. This isn't a test. You're too gullible."

His tears die down. "Then what did you want initially?" 

I can't help it. My face goes red, and I let go of his face. 

"You to...uh...murder me?"

He doesn't seem to notice the inquiry in my voice, luckily. His face looks sad and he looks me in the eyes.

"No."

He has no Idea, but he is basically killing me by just looking at me.

"What am I supposed to do with you?" I brush away the halo of hair on his head, inspecting the bruise purpling it's way through

"What am I suppose to do with you?!" His hand slaps away my own. "Everytime I see you you're trying to kill yourself!"

"So." I stand, but not after one more glance at his head to make sure it's okay. "What do you care?"

Getting on his feet, he grabs my trench coat, pulling me back. "Because you're my...friend."

Strange. Most people don't call me "friend material." I mean, I've heard "Suicidal Maniac," or "Deadly Distraction," or even "piece-of-shit peer." But friend? Absolutely not.

I hate to admit it, but teasing this kid is probably my favorite thing in the world, even more so than bothering Kunikida. 

I turn back around, the most horrifying expression is put on my face. "Good to hear, Atsushi-kun. But who said I care about you as a 'friend?'"

He is unfazed by my attempt to get under his skin. 

"Well uhm, than why else would you bring me those chicken nuggets?"

He may not be the sharpest colored pencil, but he still has the brightest hue.

However I'm not going to let him get the best of me. "So I don't have to deal with your constant complaining about how bad your head hurts." 

He crossed his arms. "Maybe my head wouldn't hurt nearly as bad if you weren't always such a headache." A smirk from his lips blind me.

"I guess you got me."

"Ha!"

I mean, there really is no point in playfully hurting him, as he will think it to be true and get upset again. Might as well stop now while he thinks he's won.

"Ok. See ya."

"That's all you wanted?"

"Yeah."

He looks pissed. "You wasted my time to ask me to kill you?"

Wow. Talking to me is a 'waste of time.' What a spear in the groin.


End file.
